Man Without A War
by staceycj
Summary: Post 5X22 When you've been fighting a war most of your life, how do you simply give it up and become normal? Inspired by something Jensen Ackles said in a recent interview.
1. Chapter 1

_**AN: Here I go again. I read an interview with Jensen and he said something that got me thinking and here is the result. Me thinks I need to quit reading his interviews. Heheh.**_

"Dean," Dean looked up from the box he was unpacking and into the face of a middle aged man, wearing what might have once been a well fitting suit, with a name tag that said "General Store Manager: Ryan Finch" on it.

"Yes, Mr. Finch?" Dean asked as he wiped his brow.

"You forgot to clock out when you took a break earlier, I fixed it, but next time I'll have to write you up," Ryan Finch said in a condescending tone. Dean bit his tongue. He wanted to shoot his mouth off. He wanted to tell Ryan Finch that he could go to hell, literally, Dean would have loved to have this guy on his table while he was doing his tour of duty down under.

"Yes sir, sorry sir, I just forgot."

"Well, your forgetfulness costs the company money, and in case you haven't noticed, the economy isn't exactly stellar."

"I'm sorry sir." Dean said again hoping that the rotund man would just leave him to his work, his demeaning, menial, repetitive task of stocking the shelves at the large chain supermarket.

"Sorry doesn't pay the bills. Remember that." _No. I have paid your bill times over, I'm the one who saved your ass from hell on earth, I'm the one who sacrificed his brother so you could worry about stupid stuff like how many cans of tomatoes are on the shelf and which way they are facing._ Dean thought angrily as he watched Ryan walk away, pants so tight that they were wedged in places that were unbecoming to someone who was supposed to command respect from the people under his command.

SNSNSNSNSN

Dean's age had always been just a number. A number that didn't amount to much, especially when you figured your life expectancy wasn't going to go higher than 39. But now that he was a "normal" guy, 31 seemed old; his body hurt in places that he didn't even know he had. His knees ached from sitting on them for great lengths of time while stocking the lower shelves, and his back twinged from standing for hours, and his arms burned with the strain of picking up boxes that weighed more than some coffins did. He remembered his time being in his 80s, but even then he hadn't felt that old, he hadn't felt the oppressive weight of life and age on his back. Normal had aged Dean, if not in ways that he could see in the mirror, it was reflected in his spirit. And what got Dean most, was that he had only been practicing this "normal" life for a couple of months. He worried what he would be like when he had been practicing normal for years.

He got into his car after working a double shift, working clear through the evening and night, and he felt lost, like he did so many days when he got into the car to go "home". He felt like he had no purpose, no reason for carrying on. Sure, he was growing fond of Lisa, and he was happy with her to a degree, and he enjoyed spending quality time with Ben, but he felt more like a general without an army or a battle to be fought than he did a boyfriend, father figure, and supermarket stock boy. When he pictured himself happy with Lisa and Ben, he had never once thought that life would be like this. He never thought that he would be so empty, so disoriented, so not himself when he was with them.

When he got back home he found the house empty, Lisa at work and Ben at school, when the house was empty the silence was oppressive. He turned on the radio to the local classic rock station trying to ease the oppression, sat down at the kitchen table, and began to leaf through the newspapers he began buying once a week when he got his job at the supermarket, three months back, and began doing the only thing that felt natural to him: finding a hunt.

He never went on any of the hunts he found, and he never told Lisa or Ben that he looked for them. But, he did it every chance he got, it was the only thing that made him feel important, made him feel real, made him feel normal. And once he found something suspicious he would research it within an inch of its life and he would make a file, just like Sam always did, and put it in a manila envelope and send it to Bobby. Bobby could take care of it, he could hunt the things in the dark, Dean couldn't. He was bound by promises made to a brother who had sacrificed himself for the world. That was a promise he had to keep. No matter how hard it was, no matter how insignificant he felt in this life, no matter how unnatural this normal was, he would keep his promise. And his only solace was looking for the things that went bump in the night.

He stopped looking through the paper and sighed, rubbed his eyes, and ran a hand through his hair. He had watched a documentary the night before about veterans of war coming home, not knowing how to fall in line with normal civilian life. Dean realized sadly, that was him, and what was worse, he wasn't just a foot soldier in the war to save humanity, he had been a general. He had no one to command. No one to save. No bad guy to chase. He had nothing that defined him. He had nothing that made this existence real. He was no one without hunting, no one without his brother.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean went through the motions the first couple of weeks that he was with Lisa and Ben, and Lisa kept a close eye on him, partially because she was worried for Dean and partially because she was worried about taking in a man that she really and truly barley knew. She knew every inch of him sexually, but inside, she didn't really know the man that Dean Winchester had been, and she most certainly didn't know the man he had become after his beloved brother died. Something which he hadn't talked about since the night he had returned and asked if it was too late to have a beer.

And then as if a light switch was flipped, Dean changed. The maudlin, sad, depressed Dean disappeared and the Dean she knew from before, was back. But something inside of her, just told her that this wasn't right, that he was just putting on a show for everyone's benefit. That something also told her that Dean had had a lot of practice at this particular ruse, and she didn't quite know how to approach the topic, didn't know if she wanted to disturb the mask that he had put into place for fear that what was underneath it was a darkness that would swallow Dean up and never let him back out.

She had a friend who was able to get Dean a job at the grocery store. He didn't have any skills, barely had a GED, and all they had space for was a stock boy. Dean didn't complain, he simply smiled and took the job, and all of the condescension and humiliation that went along with being an unskilled man in his thirties.

The happy go lucky façade was lost a night, his subconscious couldn't keep up the charade his conscious mind could. Dean slept fitfully, when he did sleep, and sometimes she heard him mumbling and yelling about Lucifer, his brother, and the apocalypse. Dean eventually quit sleeping in the same bed wit Lisa, and then he asked to be put on the night shift, because he felt that it would be best for her to get sleep, because all he would do was keep her up nights.

He was saying all of the right things, trying to do all of the right things, getting a legit job, taking Ben out to baseball, throwing the ball for him, taking him to school, and spending the evening watching television with the two of them, but under that there was a tension, always a tension. When a light bulb fizzled out one night, Dean made them stand in a salt circle for hours until he was positive nothing, demonic, or angelic had come to harm those in the house. Needless to say, it had frightened both Ben and Lisa.

Dean was a war hero back from the war, and completely lost. Completely out of his element, and she didn't know what to do. She didn't want him to leave, but she most certainly didn't like how lost he was. That wasn't Dean. That wasn't the man that she had lusted for all of those years ago, he wasn't the man who had saved her son, he was something empty and lost, and it saddened her to see it.

She just wished that she was half as brave as the man sleeping on the couch next to her. Because if she was, she would kick him out, send him packing, and force him to be the man he truly was, a general, a self assured protector of the innocent…anyone but the stock boy who tried to be happy.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean knew he had a face women loved and a body they lusted for. Many times that had been the only reason he had managed to find company for an evening, when he was on the road hunting by himself before Sam came back from Stanford. He had never been insecure about his body or his face. Never worried that someone would think him ugly or too short, or too fat, or too…anything really.

So it came as quite a shock to his system when he realized that he was ashamed of his scars, ashamed of his body, when he realized that he was self conscious. The realization came when he and Lisa had sex for the first time since he'd come to live with her. The love making was sweet and tender, and neither found any fault with any aspect of it, but when the love was made and they were laying together, her head on his chest, and her hand exploring, her hand rested on Castiel's handprint burnt into his shoulder.

She stopped, propped herself up on her elbow and looked at the marks. "What happened?" she asked gently.

"Nothing." He said and attempted to pull away, but instead of being able to roll out of her reach, she grabbed his bicep and kept him close.

"It's a hand print Dean." She said and put her hand inside of it, and suddenly, Dean felt weird, freak like. How many men in this world had a hand print on their shoulder? How many men had to explain to a lover that he had been to hell, and in his soul's rescue, the angel's hand had been seared onto his soul, so much so that it manifested on his physical body.

"It's a reminder of the end of a terrible part of my life."

"Scarification?" she asked.

"What?"

"Is it scarification?" 

"I don't know what that even is." Dean said. He pulled his arm out of her reach. He didn't want her touching it.

"Is it from the life?" They had both taken to calling Dean's life before, "the life". Dean simply nodded. "It's nothing to be ashamed of." She said softly.

But suddenly in the harsh light of the lamp beside her it was something to be ashamed of, it represented what he was, what he had been during his time in hell, during that year he had smothered his brother into the arms of a demon. "It's nothing. Just don't touch it." She moved away from him a little, afraid of saying anything else, afraid of touching him, afraid of moving away from him. She didn't want to scare him away, didn't want him shy away from her touch, didn't want him to be afraid to tell her about the bad times, didn't want to be completely out of touch with the life that had made him the man she had wanted and dreamed of.

"I'm sorry." She said softly. Dean closed is eyes and rubbed his hands over his face. He got up and grabbed his jeans and a shirt. She sat up, suddenly worried that he was going to leave her. "I'm sorry Dean. Don't go." She said and stood up.

"No. That's just it, you shouldn't have to be sorry, you have nothing to be sorry for. I just…just…can't do that right now. I can't…I can't answer those questions for you, I don't ever want to answer those questions. You shouldn't know, I won't let you know, what caused that scar. It's….it's…" Dean couldn't find the words to explain, there was so much hurt, anger, fear, and pain tied up in all of the scars on his body, and he couldn't explain them all, he couldn't tell her what had made those scars, because it would bring the evil and the pain into her normal life, and she didn't deserve that, no one did.

"Something that you can only share with Sam?" She said when she realized that Dean couldn't find the words. And at the mention of Sam's name, tears stung the backs of his eyes and he looked up, bit his lips, trying to keep those tears from spilling, she didn't need to know just how weak he really was.

"Yeah. Something like that. Just stay in bed. Go to sleep. I'm just going to go for a run. I just need some air."

As soon as he was out in the night, out amongst the stars, and the complete blanket of night, he felt real, he felt normal, he felt alive again. He began to run, and run, and run, and the night welcomed him, seemed to sigh around him, and caress him, and call to him in a way that the day never had. Lisa and Ben lived in the light, they were the ones who called Dean into the light, but once he stepped in, he lost something, his body, his features twisted, and he became something he wasn't, something ugly, and something that needed explaining. But in the night, he was free, scars weren't able to be seen, and pains wouldn't be explored. The night didn't require him to be anything, but what he was… a hunter…a man…a general…a brother. A man who wasn't ashamed of the scars.


	4. Chapter 4

Having Dean living with them made Ben beam with happiness. He had never had the privilege of a father before. Lisa had made efforts, sometimes rather loud and heated, with his biological father, trying to get him to come and take Ben to baseball practice, or even to just come pick him up for ice cream for the afternoon. Ben knew, even at 11, just how much his mom wanted him to have a father and tried to make his father be one.

Lisa hadn't dated much and the men she had dated had never quite clicked with Ben, and then Dean came into their lives on his eighth birthday, and he was a hero, he was cool, and he helped him fight off a bully. But he couldn't stay. Ben wished he could have, but Lisa had explained that this life wasn't the kind of life Dean could have. He had to save other little boys from changelings, and make sure no one else got hurt.

So, when Dean was sitting at his kitchen table, one morning a couple of months ago, and Lisa asked Ben if it was okay if Dean stayed for a little while, Ben had simply grinned, and said, "He can stay forever." But Ben noticed that Dean wasn't the same man he had been when he left them a couple of years ago. He was quieter, and he was easily startled, and then there was that time he put Ben and his mom in the salt circle. That had scared Ben, but he knew that Dean only did what he did because that was how he knew how to protect the people he cared for.

Dean was always the one who was home when he got home now, and usually could be found cleaning up the kitchen or doing some other kind of household chore. Something felt wrong to Ben when he watched Dean do something simple and normal like cleaning the kitchen, or mowing the lawn, or even making the bed. It just seemed wrong to his ten year old brain, and for the life of him he didn't understand why.

But the really cool thing about Dean was that he could ask him to do just about anything and Dean was up for it. Like tonight, Dean was getting ready for work, mom was making dinner, and Ben was sitting in front of his math worksheet frustrated.

"Math sucks!" Ben announced.

"Ben. Language." Lisa warned. Dean looked up from tying his black gym shoes.

"What's the matter?"

"It's stupid. I don't like it." Dean finished his shoes and came to the table and slid in the chair beside the boy.

"Ohhhh long division."

"Yeah, and they are making us do this crap without a calculator. Who doesn't use a calculator anymore?"

"I don't."

"Seriously?"

"No. Never had time to get it out of a pocket when the monsters were coming for me." Lisa startled a little. Dean never spoke about his life before, never brought up the monsters, she wished the contents of the pan would fry more quietly because she wanted to hear this, wanted to be able to understand him a little better, maybe help him heal, maybe help him not be so distant and empty.

"You don't need math to kill a monster."

"Yeah kid you do. You have to be able to calculate the distance between you, your brother, and the monster. You have to be able to calculate how fast the bullet will go, and the point on which it will hit the target, and you have to make sure that when you shoot you won't hit your brother who is being held in his grasp." Dean slowed down after he said brother the last time, and for a second he seemed lost in thought, lost in a world full of monsters and brothers, and a world that was decidedly not this one.

"Dean?" Dean shook himself, but while his eyes focused on Ben and the math paper, he wasn't really seeing Ben at all, he was seeing 10 year old Sammy, under floppy bangs.

"Yeah Sammy?"

"Dean. I'm Ben."

"Fine SAM." He laughed. "You're what? Ten? You think that's too old to be called Sammy now? Who told you that?" He laughed and ruffled Ben's hair. Ben knew this was wrong, knew that he shouldn't want to play along, but the happiness on Dean's face was something he wanted to keep there. Ever since Dean had come back, he had smiled, but that smile had never been like this one, had never been as happy.

Lisa had been watching this and now she decided it was worse than just a simple slip of the tongue. She moved towards the two. "You know you will never be too old for me to call you Sammy. Come on we need to focus on this, you know Dad won't let us go outside if we don't get our homework done, and I know you have that soccer game coming up, so come on, let's focus."

"Dean, I'm not Sammy." Ben said softly. "I'm Ben Braden. I don't play soccer.." Dean been having a conversation with his brother, and slowly his brother began to fade around the edges, the happy face, the floppy hair, was replaced by a confused little boy with short hair and brown eyes. Dean licked his lips and cleared his throat.

"Right. Yeah. Sorry." Dean stood, embarrassed and sad, and grabbed his jacket.

"Dean?" Ben asked. "Where are you going?"

"I need to get to work." He mumbled and hurried out of the door without a parting word or glance.

"Mom….did I do something wrong?" he asked worriedly. Ben didn't want Dean to leave, didn't want him to disappear like he did the first time. He liked having him here.

"He's just having a hard time. You know like Sara's dad who just came back from the war."

"Did Dean go to war? Is that why he was gone so long?"

"He did go to war baby. And it was hard for him. He lost a lot of people."

"Sammy?"

"Yeah, buddy, I think he lost Sammy." Lisa bent down and kissed her son's head, she had to figure out a way to make Dean better, his brother was gone, and wasn't going to be there to fix it. Dean said that Sam wanted him to come here and be with her. She knew. Sam had made Dean promise to come here, come here to be taken care of, to have people to take care of. She had met Sam only briefly the last time the brothers were in town, and she was still flabbergasted that he believed she would be able to take care of Dean. She hoped and prayed that she was doing enough, that she was making it better, but after little episodes like that one, she wasn't so sure, and what really bothered her was that she didn't want to let Sam down, a dead man she hardly knew.

"You still hungry?" she asked. Ben nodded, and the two sat down and tried to have a normal dinner, but the normal they had before Dean was hard to get back, and really, this new normal was better for having Dean in it, no matter how lost he was.


	5. Chapter 5

It was one of the few nights the two of them got to be alone. Ben was at a sleep over, and Dean had worked the afternoon shift instead of the night, and they settled down to watch a movie, and roughly thirty minutes into it Dean fell asleep, sound asleep, on the couch with his arm wrapped around Lisa, and Lisa's head on his chest.

Lisa didn't so much hear him fall asleep as she noted the change in his breathing. She looked up as much as she could, and saw his eyes closed, and his lips parted. She smiled, and put her head back on his chest. He didn't sleep that often, and when he did, he had gigantic nightmares, that usually had him sitting bolt right up in bed and sweating. She asked every single time, but he never would share; instead he would take a blanket and a pillow, apologize for waking her, and go sleep on the couch.

So, when the movie ended, she didn't want to get up, didn't want to wake him from his peaceful sleep, he rarely looked that peaceful, and the mere thought of waking him and putting those taught lines around his eyes, or the worry around his mouth, or the awkwardness, strain, the tension in his posture just made her shiver. Instead, she reached over him and got the remote off of the arm of the couch and flipped around until she found a documentary about the ancient tombs and mummies of Egypt, she had been fascinated as a child and the fascination still held some grip on her adulthood, and she settled in again against Dean's chest, listened to his heartbeat, and watched until she fell asleep with a contented smile on her lips.

Lisa didn't wake up nearly as contented as she went to sleep. Dean's elbows and knees, jabbed into uncomfortable places in his frantic struggle to get up off of the couch. She was coming to when she heard him say "no no no no." and when she was fully alert he was in front of the television trying desperately to find the power switch as quickly as possible, because apparently the elbows and knees digging into her sides and chest had been his frantic attempt to find the remote control that she was laying on.

"Dean? What is the matter?" she asked.

"Turn it off!" he demanded, as he looked for the power switch that was evident on top of the television. "Turn it off now!" he yelled a little bit more frantic. She pulled the remote out of the cushions and turned it off, and Dean's posture relaxed, his breathing remained heavy, but he didn't appear to be flying off of the handle any more.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"Nothing." He said. Lisa pulled her legs into Indian position, and gathered a pillow into her lap and hugged it.

"That's bull shit and you know it. What happened?"

"Lisa…" He appeared to be ready to tell her, appeared like he was finally going to let her in on some of the trauma that he was trying ever so hard to keep from her. "No." He said with a shake of his head. "No. I can't tell you."

"Dean. Please. I want to know. I want to help you." He turned to her and his eyes were sad he looked at a loss, looked as if he just simply didn't know where to go from here. 

"I can't pollute your life, your home, your family with this crap. I can't. You don't need that."

"And you can't live like this Dean.'

He licked his lips and after throwing his hands in the air, he sighed and said, "I should just leave. Promise or no promise, Sam couldn't have expected me to ruin your life. He didn't know what he was asking for." He said and turned from her. She caught his hand as he passed the couch. He turned to her, and she gave him the most earnest and compassionate eyes she could muster.

"Dean. I don't want you to leave. Ben doesn't want you to leave. We want you here. But we both want to help you. Ben wants to help you like you helped him. He thinks that what you do. He thinks that's what men are supposed to do. You showed him that, you taught him that. And you aren't letting either of us help. What happened Dean? What was on the television that had you so frantic?"

Dean didn't remove himself from her grasp even though both of them knew that he could without much effort. But he stayed, he looked at her, looked through her, seemed to be looking for something. Lisa waited and waited, and finally she realized what he was looking for…he was looking for trust.

He licked his lips and finally said. "The show was about the apocalypse."

"2012?" she asked.

"I don't' know. They were just talking about the damn apocalypse like it was some fairly tale, some kind of bull shit." He looked to her. She nudged him to continue. "It isn't bull shit Lisa. The apocalypse. It wasn't. My brother is in Hell right now, because he stopped it."

"Dean, hell? Really. He's gone, dead, but I don't think Sam could have gone to hell. I met him just once, but I think he was an okay guy."

"No. I watched him go to hell."

"But…" Then she realized something. If changelings and other monsters were real, then it made sense that… "You mean hell isn't just a figure of speech in religion?"

"No. It's real." He said and began to pace in front of the couch. "It's more than real." He bit his bottom lip and struggled to say what needed to be said. "I've been there. I sold my soul to save Sammy, and they collected, and I…" he swallowed, it was still hard to talk about it, but he had to, for Sammy's sake. "I was tortured, and tortured, for what was like 30 years…." And he told her everything. At first it came out slow and steady, and then it came out in fast bursts, anger and tears lacing the words and the tale, and Lisa sat, mesmerized, frightened, and worried for the man who she once thought was good for nothing other than amazing sex.

It was hard for Dean to tell someone else this, it was incredibly hard to admit his grievous mistakes, to admit he had a hand in starting the apocalypse and a hand in securing his brother's fate in hell.

He finished, two hours after he started and dared his first look at Lisa. She was crying and he felt like the biggest ass hole in the world. "I'm sorry Lis. I'm sorry." He said and again turned to gather his things and drive away like a bat out of hell so to speak. This time he didn't let her grab his arm, this time he kept on going, he pushed his feet, made himself hurry to the bed room, and had his duffel on the bed, when she finally hurried into the room.

"Where do you think you are going?" she demanded, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"I can't do this to you Lisa, you had such a happy life before I came in and told you my sad tales of woe."

"Shut up. Just stop it Dean." he turned to her surprise mixed into his sad features. "We want you here."

"But after…"

"You sacrificed the thing that you hold most dear to save the world. That doesn't make you a bad guy in my eyes. That makes you a hero."

"I started the mess…"

"Because you loved someone so much you couldn't live without them. It's okay to love Dean." She said. "It's okay to want to sacrifice your life for theirs. I'd do it for Ben in a heart beat. You did what you had to."

"People died because of me."

"And people won't die because of you. You saved the world Dean. The whole world. You said no to an angel. You didn't let them win. You told them to kiss you ass and you meant it. It's something to be proud of, not ashamed of."

"But Sam is stuck in hell, as Lucifer's meat suit. My brother….my Sammy….he's in hell."

"And he is as much of a hero as you are."

"But he's suffering…"

"You suffered." She pointed out.

"I never wanted that for Sam. He deserves better." And Lisa realized in that moment, that Sam was Dean's child, and when that came into focus, she realized something else…if she was in his shoes, she would be just as big of a mess as he was.

"Then you need to get him out of there."

"He made me promise not to."

She shrugged. "Some promises are meant to be broken." The words hung in the air, and Dean seemed paralyzed. She took the duffel off of the bed, and put it back in the closet. She guided him to the bed and pulled back the covers, and got in and patted the bed beside her. "Come to bed Dean. Things can be thought over and sorted out in the morning. Come on." He finally got to bed, and she wrapped herself around him. "You are staying in this bed tonight. I won't let the monsters, angels or demons get you. I promise." She hugged him tighter. "Tomorrow we'll see if we can help Sammy."


	6. Chapter 6

The sounds of children, the smell of freshly cut grass, and the feel of the bleachers underneath his bottom were familiar. And out on the field was 14 year old Sammy kicking the ball for all it was worth, and he would stand and cheer and make noise and embarrass the hell out of his little brother, and then there would be a hand on his shoulder and he would turn, and the face that would greet him would be Lisa's. Her eyes were soft and understanding, but the hand on his shoulder was to ground him, remind him of when and where he was. He swallowed, nodded, and tried not to look nearly as embarrassed as he felt.

"Ben's up to bat." She said with a smile. He nodded, wished with all of his might to be anywhere but here, anywhere where he didn't look like a fool, anywhere where he didn't feel quite so out of sorts, anywhere where he felt normal—his brand of normal.

Dean turned and watched Ben, tried with all of his might, but no matter how hard he tried to keep his eye on the prize, Ben would disappear under a mop of hair and hazel eyes, and it was Sammy out on the field, it was Sammy who was up to bat, it was Sammy who was hitting the homeruns, and then at the end of the game, Ben would run to them, and when he started to speak, Sammy's happy smiling face would disappear and Ben would return, and Dean's heart would sink, and he would fight to keep his game face on, the one that didn't look sad and disappointed that this wonderful young man was in front of him instead of his little brother.

"I did it!" Ben said jubilantly. Dean still unsteady from the realization that it wasn't Sammy smiled.

"Your first home run!" Lisa exclaimed and hugged her son tightly.

"I told you, you could do it Ben." Dean said making a pointed effort to use the kid's name. He reached out and hugged the teen and Ben smiled up at him like he was the best thing in the world, and that made Dean wince, because as much as he liked the kid, when he looked at him he still saw Sammy. Truth be told, that wasn't fair to Ben. Ben didn't deserve to be any man's sloppy seconds, and that was the way Dean was afraid he was treating Ben as such, and that bothered Dean more than words could express.

"So, what does the star of the team want to do to celebrate?" Lisa asked. Ben smiled wickedly.

"I want to go see that new horror flick at the theater, and then I want to go to Sampson's for dinner." Lisa gave a theatrical sigh and turned to Dean.

"Do you think that's reasonable?"

Dean shrugged and played along, "Well, he did hit the winning home run. That at least deserves dinner and a movie."

Lisa gave another long suffering sigh and looked back at her son. "I guess we can."

SNSNSNSN

Unbeknownst to Dean the movie starred Tara Benchly, and at first that made Dean smile, but just as quickly as it made him smile, it also flooded him with memories of being a PA, of the hunt, then it reminded him of Sam, and that triggered a whole flood of other memories: hell, his brother, his brother in hell, Lucifer, vessels, angels, demons, and devil lock boxes. The memories pounded against his skull, rock and rolled him and made him feel crazy, crazy like that time he had been infected by the wraith, and that reminded him of the last time that Sam had ever verbally said that he loved Dean, and that made him have to get up and get away.

He quickly excused himself to the bathroom, and once there splashed water on his face, and when he looked in the mirror, he saw a scared man looking back at him. He stared hard as if his reflection would unlock the cage and bring his brother back, or return him to some sort of sanity. It did neither. He hung his head for a moment, splashed more water on his face, and went back into the movie, starring the pretty woman with whom he had rocked a trailer.

Lisa noted that he looked distressed when he returned, and she watched just as quickly as he pulled on a mask of normalcy, of contentment, over his face and sat back down next to Ben, and listened as Ben filled him in on the minutia of the movie. Dean pretended that it was the coolest thing in the world, and Lisa fell a little more in love with him.

SNSNSN

After the movie they went to Sampson's a local burger joint, that had surprisingly good food, and a friendly staff. Dean liked it there. He sat in front of son and mother, facing the door, and he noted each and every person that entered the diner. It was habit, honed after years of protecting his little brother, and fending off the horde of supernatural baddies that seemed to be lined up waiting to take a crack at a Winchester. So, while they talked, Dean kept an eye on those coming in and out of the diner, and noted someone suspicious enter, and when he saw the person go directly to the counter, Dean excused himself from his party, and went behind the suspicious person, and pretended to tie his boot until he heard the magic words: "This is a robbery give me the money." Accompanied by the sound of a gun.

Dean was a blur of hands and had the man disarmed and the knife from his boot against the man's throat before anyone could blink. "You will not rob this nice establishment,

and you will apologize for scaring this nice young lady, or I will slice your throat open." He felt the would be robber swallow hard against the knife, and Dean dug it in ever so slightly, and a slight trickle of blood came down the man's neck.

"I'm sorry." He warbled out.

"Laura, go and call the police sweetie, I've got him until they come." Laura, who was now pale faced and wide eyed, nodded frantically and dialed 9-1-1. No one in the diner moved until Dean had the man in a chair at knife point.

Lisa watched all of this happen, and saw the look of satisfaction in Dean's eyes, watched the ease in his movements, and the confidence in his posture. None of this was ever present normally, and he forced happiness. This was who Dean was. he was a hunter of men or supernatural. It was like she had taken some wild creature out of the wild and tried to tame it, make it into something it wasn't, and she knew now, that the true colors of the animal were more beautiful than anything she had made or anticipated.

Dean was going to suffocate in normal, and after watching this, she realized it was going to happen sooner rather than later.


	7. Chapter 7

The night of the robbery, Dean slept more soundly than he had the entire time he had been staying with Lisa. Actually, it was the first time that he slept longer than twenty minutes at a time without startling himself awake. It was like a peace had overcome him. She wanted to see that peace overcome him more often, she wanted him as content every single day as he was today, wanted him as energized as he was on the car ride home, wanted him to smile half as much as he smiled that evening. It was like a piece of Dean clicked into place when he took down the bank robber, like a part of his soul had been starving from lack of being a hero. That sounded stupid even in her head, but there it was. The proof all but sledge hammered her in the face.

After watching what she had watched she knew that Dean couldn't go on living like this. A part of him would die for good, and that part, the part that saved the girl at the restaurant, the part that saved her son and most of the children in town from the changelings, if it died would essentially leave the man known as Dean Winchester, an empty vessel, because without Sam to take care of, without a way to save people, he had no purpose. God had made him very specifically, and carefully, and any thread pulled on the tapestry would mar the beauty. But taking away Sam was akin to pulling a thread that removed half of the design leaving the bottom in threads, and the tapestry vulnerable to completely unraveling. Today she discovered, that really, without saving people, without helping someone else, the tapestry was unraveling faster and faster, he was going to be destroyed if he continued on the path of grocery store stock boy, boyfriend, and surrogate father. That wasn't who he was. Lisa worried at her lip for a moment and watched him for a moment longer. Tomorrow, she would save the man who had saved her son.

SNSNSNSNSN

Dean felt energized after the robbery. It felt like he was back, like a part of him clicked back into place. But he knew it wouldn't last, couldn't last. He couldn't' go out looking for fights like that, and hunting was out of the question, he couldn't bring Lisa and Ben into the view of the supernatural, and his finger prints were on file, so that eliminated every job that involved law enforcement. So, he tried hard to content himself with the newspapers and sending possible hunts out to Bobby. But now, that almost didn't seem like enough, he felt jittery with the need to do something, it was like his body was in withdraw.

Dean stiffened with the thought, he could still hear the echoes of his brother's screams, pleading with him to help him, pleading to be spared this humiliation, begging to be saved from the monstrous illusions plaguing his demon blood addled mind, begging for the pain to stop. Dean dropped the paper onto the table, and grabbed his head, willing the memories to stop, willing reality to come back into focus and for Sam's screams to abate.

And that was the afternoon that Lisa decided to come home early, that was the day Lisa saw his hunting project, and that was the day Dean expected to be kicked out. Sam's screams faded into Lisa's worried voice calling his name. Sam, coated in sweat and spit, and eyes wide in panic and fear faded away as if they were nothing more than mist and Lisa's face swam into view.

"Where were you?" she asked concerned.

"Nowhere." He said breathlessly. He stood and ran a hand down his sweaty face. "Why are you home so early?" he asked as he got a glass down from the cupboard, trying his best not to look at her.

"Class canceled, not enough people showed up." She went to him and put a hand on his back. "Another flashback?" she asked.

"It's nothing."

"Dean, it's okay…"

"I don't want to talk about it. It won't make it better, it won't bring Sam back, it won't fix anything. I don't want to talk about it." He said finally. She took her hand off of his back, feeling very much like a censured child. He heard her turn and walk from him and he closed his eyes, sighed, and felt like the biggest jerk in the world. She was simply trying to comfort him and he pushed her away, just like he did Sam, just like he did Bobby, and look at where it got him, maybe if he'd been more honest, things wouldn't have happened they way they did.

He turned and put his hand on her back. "I'm sorry Lisa. I'm sorry."

"I don't want you to be sorry, Dean." She said and picked up the newspaper. "I don't want you to not be who you are." She turned around to face him. "You need this."

"I don't need it." He tried to deny. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't…"

"You aren't hearing me Dean." She paused and took a breath. "I watched you the other day, I watched you risk your life for that girl at Sampson's, it was the most steady you've been since you showed up on my door step. That's who you are. You need to do that."

"Are you kicking me out?" He asked softly.

"Oh God no. No No. I want you here. Ben wants you here. I just want you to know that you can…do that kind of stuff."

He paused and moved from her and sat down at the kitchen table. "No, Lisa, I can't. I can't risk that kind of stuff coming back here and finding you and Ben, and destroying you guys."

"But the changelings…"

"Were nothing compared to the stuff that would be on my ass if I went back to the life. There are a lot of very scary things out there that would love to take a crack at me. A whole lot. And they would use you and Ben to get me." _They've done it to us before_. Dean added silently.

"You don't have to stay though Dean. You can leave."

"I don't leave those I love." He said simply.

"But, what about you? You're suffocating here."

"No. I'm not." Lie number one.

"Dean. You slept soundly for the first time since you came after the robbery. Day to day life, normal life….I don't think that's what makes you happy."

"I'm fine." Lie number two. "I like it here."

"I like having you here too." She reached around and hugged him, her chin resting on his shoulder. "But, are you staying here because of the promise you made to your brother or because you want to be here?" There was a long pause. She was giving him an out, trying hard to get him to make the choice that would set him free, that would make him happy, that would save him.

"Because I want to be here." He said finally and without feeling. Lie number three.


	8. Chapter 8

The lies Dean told for her benefit hung with her for days, and days. Life seemed to be going on as normal, she and Dean went to work, summer vacation started for Ben, Dean grilled out on the weekends, and they pretended to be a happy family. But Lisa knew, knew it like she knew her own name, Dean wasn't happy, Dean was barely alive, he was simply going through the motions, he was desperately trying to make this the life for him.

She decided to do something about it, but she didn't know what to do or how to start. She'd never done anything sneakier than climbing out of her bedroom window in the middle of the night to go to a concert when she was 16, and even that she hadn't been so good at doing. Her parents found her on the grass, after she practically fell out of the bedroom window, and she was promptly grounded for the next month. So, really, her knowledge of being sneaky was incredibly limited. Compound that with the fact that Dean was an expert, and it made the whole operation daunting.

She began the process by going through Dean's duffel bag while he was at work, the duffel bag that he had brought in, put in the bottom of the closet, and didn't touch. Inside, she found clothes, clothes that were way too big for him, and didn't smell like him. She held a plaid shirt with snaps and she realized who they belonged to, they belonged to Sam. This was his duffel bag, and this was all Dean had of Sam left. She felt suddenly dirty and awful for going through Dean's things, things that were obviously so private. She rushed and put the shirt back into the military style duffel and zipped it closed fast. She wanted out of it, wanted to pretend that she just hadn't invaded one of the most private spaces Dean had.

She beat herself up about the violation all night, and the next morning she resolved that she would confess herself and apologize the moment Dean arrived home. Her mind was made up and she wasn't going to do any more digging in his things, and she was going to tell him of her plan to help him get Sam back. Her resolve melted when she saw him. When he came through the door, and he looked broken and tired she suddenly couldn't add to his burden.

"Work okay?" she asked tentatively as she spread butter on her toast.

"Fine." He said and headed towards the stairs.

"Dean…" He turned around and looked at her, his green eyes lacking the luster they once had. "Dean. You don't have to work that job." That wasn't what she had meant to say, but that was what came out.

He gave her a tired smile. "It's not like I'm qualified to get any other kind of job. It's fine. Don't worry so much Lisa."

"Dean…"

"I'll be in the shower." He called. She sighed heavily. There were thousands of things that she wanted to say but she couldn't find the words. And as she watched him tiredly walk out of the kitchen, seemingly defeated, that small part of her that hadn't been sorry for going through Sam's duffel bag, grew just a little bit, and it said, in a voice much louder than she was used to, that she needed to do this, that she needed to find a way to help him, find Sam, get him back into the hunting life, something, anything, because he couldn't keep living like this. Because he wasn't living. He was pretending, he was living a cover story, and cover stories aren't supposed to last your entire life.

SNSNSNSNS

Dean always worked from Friday night into Saturday morning, and often arrived home sometime around 7 AM. Every other day of the week Dean would greet his little family see them off to their days, and then he would go to bed. But when he worked the Friday night shift, usually he didn't go to bed the following morning, he stayed up the entire day so he could spend it with his little family. He felt that it was the right thing to do, felt that it was the only thing to do. He had jeopardize the world because of family, he had gone to hell and started the whole mess because of family, he had preached that without family there was no world, so now that he had what people considered a "normal" family, he spent every moment he possibly could with them, even though he felt like a fraud, and every sense in his body screamed to get the hell out of there because he didn't belong. But Sam knew him better than he knew himself, and Sam knew how important family was to him, so by God, he was going to make the most of this.

Lisa and Ben had made a habit of spending Saturdays together. They would stay home and rent a movie, go to a movie, Ben would have friends over, they would go to a museum, they would go to a car show, they would do something, anything, it didn't matter, they would simply do something together. And when Dean had come along they had included him in their adventures. Today, they were on their way to a monster movie marathon at the Cineplex.

"You guys ready to go?" Dean asked as he came down the stairs, smelling like aftershave, and looking fabulous in the new shirt and jeans that Lisa had bought him. He certainly didn't look like the same man that had come to town.

"Yeah!" Ben yelled from the back of the house.

"Why do I think that is code for he can't find his shoes?" Dean asked.

"Because it's true."

"Mom?" Ben asked coming into the kitchen while holding one shoe. "Where is my other shoe?" The adults smiled.

They found the shoe, and Lisa went digging for her car keys when Dean said, "Don't' worry about it. We'll take the Impala." She tried very hard not to still at the mention of the car. Neither of them had ridden in the beautiful car, and Dean had never offered before. This was big. This was very big.

"We get to ride in the car!" Ben pumped his fists in the air, Lisa grabbed her purse, and they headed out.

SNSNSNS

It was different being on Dean's turf. He had no turf anywhere else, but the moment they got into the car, Lisa felt like she was getting into his house, getting into his life, his family, his everything, and the feeling was oppressive, and she wondered if this was how he felt every single day that he lived with her.

The conversation was easy until Ben asked about the army man in the ash tray. Dean didn't say much, other than his brother had jammed it in there when he was little, and asked Ben gently not to touch it and to leave it alone. The rest of the ride there was quiet.

They were standing in line for the movie when Lisa thought of it, they were at the counter when she decided to go for it. She rooted around in her purse, and Dean turned to her. "What's the matter?" He asked.

"I can't find my wallet." She said.

"Don't' worry about it. I've got this." He smiled and put his hand on her shoulder.

"No, I don't feel right not having it with me. I don't want it left in the car. Can I have the keys?" he gave her a confused expression but dug in his pocket and handed her the keys.

"Sure."

"thanks. I'll be right back." She hurried out and got to the car, she unlocked the door and started searching it. There had to be something, a name, a phone number, a book something that could tell her how to help Dean. The last place she looked was in the glove compartment, and she found it. A cell phone. She took it and prayed that it was charged. She hit power, it turned on, and she thanked God, and she scrolled through the speed dial.

1. Sammy

2. Bobby

3. Castiel

Sam was gone, so she hit number two and prayed that she was doing the right thing. "Dean?" came the gruff voice over the line.

"No. It's Lisa Braden, and I was hoping that you could help me help Dean."


	9. Chapter 9

Lisa came pushed through the doors to the movie theater and Dean noted the anger and frustration in her step. She joined the boys, and he put an arm on her shoulder. "Everything okay?"

"Fine."

"What took so long?"

"Shelly called."

"Everything okay with Shelly?" he asked, concern lacing his eyes. She wanted to scream furiously when she saw the look. It was that look that had her calling the gruff old man. The mean gruff old man, who only thought of himself, and promises the made to a dead man who obviously didn't know Dean very well, because if he had he wouldn't have made Dean promise to be something that he wasn't.

"Shelly is just having a rough time with Todd, and it just makes me mad that she won't just leave him." He nodded, accepting the lie and honestly after that she didn't hear much.

They sat in the theater, the boys loving every single gory second of the movie, and Lisa sat there and brooded. The conversation with this Bobby character didn't go anything like she would have imagined. The man who is listed only after the beloved Sammy, was a complete and total ass hole.

"_Lisa Braden?"_

"_Yeah, Dean is staying with me."_

"_I know."_

"_I need your help."_

"_You said that already."_

"_Dean isn't happy. Dean needs his brother."_

"_No."_

"_What do you mean no?"_

"_No. I'm not going to help you or anyone else find Sam. Sam's gone. Dean needs to realize that and let it go."_

"_But he's…he's not making it, he's…" she flailed looking for the right words. "He's a mess. He is like a man…a man that came home from war and doesn't know how to fit back in."_

"_That's exactly what he is."_

"_But, I can't help him. Sam can."_

"_Look, did he tell you what happened?"_

"_Yeah. Lucifer took over Sam, and Sam managed to get him to jump back into his cage."_

"_Then you know I can't do anything, I won't do anything, I won't risk Lucifer getting out of the box."_

"_But Sam…"_

"_Knew what he was doing. No one made him do it."  
_

"_But, Dean thinks he's in hell."_

_There was a pause and then a sad, "He is darlin' he is."_

"_Then we need to get him out."_

"_He made us promise."_

"_To hell with all of this promise bull shit. Dean says he can't go hunting because of a promise he made to Sam, he came to my door because of a promise he made to Sam, he's forcing himself to be content with a life that just doesn't suit him because of a promise to Sam. You guys act like he's dead, and if that's the case, why in the world is a promise to a dead man so freaking important? Why is that promise worth more than Dean's life and happiness?" She was yelling at this point, so loud in fact, that she could hear her voice echo off of the walls of the car._

"_Because, a promise to family means everything to Dean, to Sam, and even to me. We promised Sam, that we would let it go, let him go…darlin' you don't know what you are trying to get yourself into. And I'm not going to help you get yourself into it. I'm sorry. Please don't call me again." And the line went dead._

She was so wrapped up in her thoughts she didn't see the end of the first movie in the monster movie marathon. She only came back into reality when Dean put a hand on her knee and stilled her swinging leg.

"Are you sure you are okay? You look really upset. Do you want to go home?" he asked. Again with the concern. He cared about people, he truly wanted her to be happy and he wanted nothing in return. She could kick him out tonight and he would smile, thank her for allowing him the time with her and Ben, and then he would get into his car and go. And maybe she should do that, maybe that would force him to leave, go hunt, and find his brother. Maybe that would nullify the promise he had made to his brother, and maybe that nullification would enable him to go be the man he was, allow him to cast off the binding on his wings and fly.

"Lis?" He asked again, and she shook her head and forced a smile.

"Sorry, just a little distracted."

"You want to go home?" By this time Ben was looking over at her with the same concerned big eyes that Dean had.

"No. No. I'm sorry, I'm fine. I was just lost in my own little world for a second." And when both didn't seem convinced, she put a hand on Dean's arm and said. "I'm having a great time with my guys, now, get those looks off of your faces, we have three more movies to watch."

That night, after Ben was safely tucked in, and Lisa and Dean had cleaned up and gotten ready for bed, they got into bed, and Lisa laid on Dean's chest. "Dean?" She asked quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Tell me something."

"Okay."

"Why are you so hell bent on keeping the promise you made to Sam?"

Dean licked his lips. "Because."

"That's not an answer."

"Because Lisa, it's Sam." Dean sniffed hard and was quiet. Lisa had learned enough in the short time Dean had been with them that if she waited just long enough that he would open up a little bit more, and she wasn't disappointed. "Because, he's my brother Lisa. Because he asked."

"So, because he asked you, you are supposed to live a life you aren't meant for?"

"This is the life he wanted for me."

"But it doesn't mean that this is the life you want or should have."

"The promise is made Lisa." And just like that the conversation was over. Tuesday morning, when he got home there was a book on the bed, it was about Lucifer. There was a passage highlighted. A post-it-note was on the page, it read: _I don't give a damn what he made you promise. You need your brother, and I, for one, am going to try and help._ He went to take the post-it-note off and found that there was another one underneath the first, it read _And I promise I will find and help him or die trying. And if you don't help me, then I'm probably going to get in over my head, and something nasty is going to kill me. And I never break a promise I make to those I love.._

Dean closed his eyes, shook his head, and sighed. Then a small smile crept up on his face. He remembered why he liked Lisa, why he had fallen for her, she was feisty, and she was his equal, his match. She had promised weeks ago that she would help him get to his brother, he thought she had forgotten, but he should have known better. The two of them shared something fundamental. Family was the most important thing in their lives. And when one made promises to family, they kept them.


	10. Chapter 10

Dean made sure to "help" Lisa. Essentially, he told her to check the libraries and the internet, and whenever she found something even remotely resembling fact or something useful, he evaluated it and told her, that no, he knew for a fact that it wouldn't actually do any good. And because he was the expert, she believed him.

Dean simply couldn't have her getting herself into this life, couldn't have her putting her life at risk, Ben's life at risk, because opening the cage, even for a minute, was too much of a risk, and he knew it, Sam had known it, and he wasn't about to let her become another victim of the life he and Sam had led.

Essentially their lives stayed the same, and he tried as hard as possible to keep his game face in place so that she wouldn't feel as if she had to do anything, had to keep this absurd promise she had made without prompting. He went to work, endured the patronizing of a man with far fewer skills in life than he, tried, and sometimes succeeded in enjoying the family down time he, Lisa, and Ben shared. He willed himself to become one with his new life.

So, one night, when he was sitting at the dinner table, listening to Ben talk about the video game that he had been playing for the majority of the afternoon, and really thinking about Sam and worrying, he saw it. It was out of the corner of his eye, but by God he saw it. The street lamp just outside the house flickered and then went out. He stopped dishing out the mashed potatoes and stared. Something was wrong.

"Lisa, get into the basement."

"What? Why?"

"Just take Ben, the salt, and go down to the basement and seal the doors and windows with salt. Go! Do it Now!" Lisa and Ben both jumped up, Lisa grabbed the salt on the way down, and Dean waited until he heard the basement door shut, and saw little particles of salt spilling underneath the doorway before he made a move. He grabbed the gun that he kept under the dust ruffle of the couch and opened the door.

"Who's there?" he demanded and pointed the shot gun. He walked forward, actually, he stalked forward, it was like riding a bike, his muscles hadn't forgot the years of training, practicing, hunting.

"Come on you son of a bitch. Come out. Face me." Dean's eyes darted from side to side, his eyes adjusting to the night, and seeking out a form in the night. His eyes settled on one, right underneath the lamp post. It was big. Dean rolled his shoulders back and stalked towards it. He cocked the shot gun and hands came out in front of him.

"No. Don't shoot Dean. It's me." Dean jolted at the sound of the voice. It was Sam. It couldn't be Sam. He was trapped in hell, he was housing the devil himself when he disappeared into oblivion. Dean pointed the shotgun again and gave a laugh.

"Come on. You really think I'm that stupid. How'd you get out of the box you son of a bitch?"

"Dean.."

"No. You can't be Sam. You destroyed my brother. And I'm not going to let you do the same to the family I have."

"Dean. Dean. Please. No. It's me. I swear to God, it's me." Dean held the shot gun fast and steady. The voice could sound soft and pleading just like his Sammy, but Lucifer had shown him, right after Sammy said yes, that he could mimic his little brother, and then at the last second throw him for a loop and show his true colors. Lucifer liked that, liked tricking Dean, and making his beloved brother's face the last thing he sees before his eye is punched to the point of breaking, and all that's left is his brothers blurry face, contorted into the lines of the devil, and his fist pounding against his flesh, all the while verbally tormenting him. Lucifer would do that again. There was no way in hell that Lucifer would let Sam out of the hotbox without a scratch. No. This was a trick.

Dean's finger was on the trigger and he was a fraction of a second away from shooting when he heard.

"Dean!" The low tones of familiarity. He turned, Castiel stood there, in his rumpled suit, tie hanging half mast, trench coat blowing lazily around his legs.

"Cass…"

"It's really me Dean." The figure said again. Dean blinked and he was standing in front of Dean, pushing the shot gun away from Sam.

"He's telling the truth. I resurrected him myself."

Emotions bubbled to the surface, and Dean struggled to stay standing, to not run to the figure, who claimed to be Sam, Castiel's words still not sticking to his brain, not ringing true.

"Dean. This is Sam. Completely and totally your brother. Lucifer is still in the cage. God granted your brother another chance." Dean licked his lips and looked at Sam for a moment, looked back at Castiel, then looked back to Sam, dropped the gun and ran to his baby brother and hugged him as tight as his body would allow. Sam held on with the same ferocity. Time moved about them, but they didn't register it, they didn't care they finally had each other back. CAstiel cleared his throat and Dean snapped out of the Winchester world he and his brother had created, broke the hug and stepped back.

"You hungry? You have to be hungry. Lisa made dinner. She's a great cook. Come on. Please. Come inside." Dean sniffed, trying to keep the tears at bay.

"Yeah. That'd be good." Sam came up beside Dean and they crossed the street, shoulder to shoulder, touching just barely, each afraid that the other would disappear.


	11. Chapter 11

Dean escorted his brother inside the house, told him to sit down, and he hurried to the basement door, the moment Sam was out of sight anxiousness took over his body and he just wanted to get back there, just wanted to hurry up. Once at the door he knocked three times, and then tapped twice, the code that he had made the two practiced time and time again since he started living with him. Dean always expected something nasty from his past to come back and try to destroy Lisa and Ben, because past precedent was past precedent and the fuglies of the world loved nothing more than to make a Winchester feel guilt and remorse for something that wasn't entirely their fault. And Lisa and Ben destroyed because they had taken him in, loved him, helped him try to fit back into the world after his brother's death, would have been enough to break the last Winchester standing. So, he had drilled them, taught them about salt lines, taught them about salt and silver rounds in guns, hell he had taken them out and showed them how to handle themselves around a gun. But the most important thing that he had taught them was the plan in case of home invasion. And he had devised a code that would allow them to know that he was the one at the door, a code to make sure that they never got hurt.

He heard them come up the stairs and knock four times, and tap once. Dean opened the door and Lisa, threw holy water in his face, he blinked, nodded. Lisa looked a little chagrinned but put the vile back into her pocket and stepped forward and the look on her face, when she looked at him, morphed from one of determination and slight embarrassment to a look of worry. "What was it Dean?"

Dean couldn't make the words, he was too happy, too nervous, to concerned. Lisa put a hand on his cheek and said, "What's happened? Are you okay?"

"My brother is back." Dean said softly.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"But you said that he was in Hell, and there wasn't any way to bust him out."

"I didn't do it. God did."

"God?" Dean was beginning to become impatient with her questions, he tried to hurry her along.

"Castiel, the angel who pulled me out of hell two years ago, he pulled Sam out on God's orders."

"Are you sure?"

"Cass is here."

"No tricks?"

"No. It's Cass." She nodded and instead of resisting his tugging she began to walk along side of him, hand firmly in Ben's. When she entered the kitchen an imposing figure was sitting at the kitchen table, next to a man who looked like he had just finished a long day at the office.

The imposing figure turned and gave his full face to the little group, and she remembered him from the time they saved Ben from the changelings.

"Sam?" Dean started.

"You listened to me. You kept your promise." He said softly.

"You told me to go live the apple pie life Sammy. I couldn't let you down." Sam looked up at his brother and the intensity of the look was enough to make Lisa take a step back.

"Why am I here?" Sam asked voice cracking. 

"Because God willed it." Castiel said in his stoic grumble.

"Because God willed it?" Sam mulled that over for a second and then looked at Dean. "How long?"

"Almost four months."

"Felt like…"

"Forty years." Dean finished in a near whisper. And Sam nodded. Dean's stomach twisted in a knot. He pulled a chair up and sat in front of Sam. "What do you remember?"

"I don't' know." he said honestly. "I don't know what's real and what was a nightmare." The silence was palpable. Lisa's eyes went from one brother to the other and realized that the tension, the memories, the pain needed to be alleviated, if only just slightly.

"Sam, we were just sitting down to dinner, are you hungry?"

"I didn't meant to interrupt your dinner." Dean couldn't help the smile that spread over his face. That was his Sammy, always worried about etiquette.

Lisa closed her eyes, shook her head, and sighed. "Are you hungry?" Sam stayed silent.

"He's hungry Lisa, let's fix him a plate."

"Castiel, are you hungry?" Lisa asked as she moved to the cabinet with the plates, however, before she finished the question she heard a flutter of wings and the angel was gone.

"Wow! That was way cool!" Ben said with a grin. Dean ruffled his hair.

"Castiel has some cool moves." Dean admitted. "Come on, let's eat dinner." Dean said as he took the plate from Lisa, and began to fill it full of food for his little brother. He put the plate in front of Sam and handed him a fork. Sam at slowly at first, and then as he tasted the first vestiges of food he began to eat quicker and quicker until everything was gone from his plate, and when it was, Dean slid his in front of his little brother, and patted him on the back. He remembered how hungry he had been when got back from the pit, he remembered how scared, how tired, and how frazzled he had been too. Dean could only imagine how those feelings were amplified in his little brother, not only had he been in Hell, he had had the king of hell in his skin for that time as well. Wrecked was probably an understatement in regards to Sam's mental health.

SNSNSNSNSN

Lisa watched Dean with Sam, and she, for the first time, saw the man who came to her broken and sad, as someone who was complete, and happy. Helping Sam to the bathroom, making sure he had his duffel with him, and all of the toiletries that Dean managed to materialize out of nowhere, then helping him into the spare room, and helping him get settled in, made her want to cry. She knew that Dean needed to leave. Knew that he needed to be with his brother.

She stopped him on his way out of the bathroom, "Dean, you staying with him tonight?"

He bit his lip and a curious expression came across his face that she couldn't identify and he nodded, "If that's okay with you."

She gave a wilted smile. "He needs you." Dean nodded, leaned over and kissed her cheek.

"You are a special woman you know that?" She smiled. He took her hand for a moment squeezed it, turned and went back to his brother.

Sam was sitting on top of the covers, starring at his uncovered feet. Dean closed the door softly. "Lucifer made me eat my own toes." Sam started. Dean sat down on the bed next to him and let him talk. "He forced my body to pull my feet up to my mouth and bite off each and ever toe. Then when my feet were bleeding he made me drink my own blood said that I liked demon blood so much I should just drink my own, there was no real difference. That was just the beginning I think Dean."

"They destroy you in Hell." Sam nodded. "I never wanted that for you Sammy. I never wanted you to have to experience the things that I did when I was in the pit. You….I tried to protect you from all of that."

Sam looked up at Dean with tears streaming down his face. "I never appreciated what you went through. You told me to remember what you taught me, and I did everything against it, and then when you came back, I didn't sit beside you and listen to you, I was too busy for that. Dean…"

"It's in the past. You are back with me. That is all that is important right now." Dean leaned a fraction of an inch closer to his brother, touching his shoulder with his, trying to lend the strength that Sam was going to need to keep himself together for the night.


	12. Chapter 12

Lisa opened the door to the guest room softly the following morning. Sam was sleeping fitfully on the bed, and Dean was sitting on the floor beside the bed, allowing Sam's hand to clutch his clothing, while he skimmed through a magazine about cars.

"You want me to take him while you get dressed and showered?" She asked softly. Dean looked at her quizzically. No one had ever asked to take over the care of Sammy while he got cleaned up. Most people assumed that Dean wouldn't leave Sam's side, that he was the only one he felt capable of taking care of Sammy. And while that had been true when he was four years old, it hadn't held true throughout most of his life. There had been plenty of times throughout the years that he'd wished that their Dad had helped take care of the kid, and as they grew older and Dad left, he wished that Bobby had offered to help.

Dean was only four years older than Sam, and sometimes, that gap didn't seem so big, and those were the times when Sam was sick or hurt and Dean didn't know what to do, how to help. And then there were the times he was afraid that Sam might die. That fear was something unimaginable. Because without Sammy who would he have had? But he had muddled through those times, he had neglected to shower, neglected to shave, neglected to change clothes, neglected to eat because he couldn't leave his brother's side. He was used to it. So, as time passed, Dean became possessive, and even when he did need help, his pride prevented him. It became something that defined him.

Now, here stood a woman, who had allowed him and his crazy life to enter her house, darken her normal with his paranormal, and here she was offering to sit with Sam while he got cleaned up. He knew that this was a moment of decision that was significant. He had been trying so hard to live this normal, and he wasn't very good at it, but he was determined to do his best. So, it was a time of clean slates, and he swallowed, allowed himself to give up some control and said:

"Yeah, actually I'd like that." She smiled and came in. Dean pried Sam's fingers out of his shirt and moved away. Sam stirred restlessly, and Lisa took Dean's place on the floor, and Sam immediately grabbed the sleeve of the shirt that Lisa was wearing.

"Wow. He has a grip." She whispered.

"When you get back from hell, you need something real to hold on to." Lisa looked up at Dean, and like a war veteran the memories of the war were flashing in his eyes, they looked dark, and scary, and if the vice grip on her sleeve was any indication, the war these boys have fought, was far gorier, far scarier, far more horrific than any war ever fought. She reached for Dean's hand, the connection shook him from his memories, as she knew it would, she had brought Dean out of those states a couple of times, and she found that touch was far more effective than any sound, any smell, anything. He blinked once and looked back to her.

"What do I need to know?" She asked. Dean felt a small smile tug at his lips. She was treating him like Sam's father, she hadn't met Sam but for a total of five minutes, and she had already figured out that Dean was closer to a father figure than an brother, and for the first time in his life, someone who figured that out, wasn't mocking them, wasn't calling them codependent, asking them if they had sex, she wasn't treating them like freaks. She was simply treating him like another parent, like she was going to watch the next door neighbor kid and she wanted to know what kind of juice the kid drank. Dean licked his lips, and for the first time felt proud for being the one to raise his little brother, and not like a freak.

"Just sit there and let him hold onto you. If he wakes up and calls for me, send him into the bathroom."

"Okay." She said and got comfortable beside the bed with his little brother's gigantic hand clutching at the shirt she had stolen from Dean weeks ago.

Dean managed to shower and dress without any issues, and he didn't hear his baby brother howling or yelling, or even talking, so all was good.

It happened when he was shaving. He looked up and Castiel was in the mirror.

"Jesus!" Dean exclaimed, his heart pounding six thousand miles an hour. He hit his palm against the vanity. "Cass! We've freaking talked about this!"

"I am sorry."

"What do you want that it couldn't wait?" he asked glaring at Cass in the mirror.

"You and your brother are needed."

"What the hell?"

"You and Sam are a team."

"Yeah, so?"

"God wants you to fight the evil that is roaming the earth."

"Cass, we've done that our whole lives. Sammy is back from Hell. He needs time, he needs to be okay just for a little bit."

"There isn't time for Sam to recuperate. God…"

"God can freaking shut his damn cake hole. He can chill out. Send someone else, send someone else with a fake destiny that he can't change, that he has to sacrifice his family for, yeah that should do it. Let us rest."

"Dean, you and Sam…" Dean turned around and came toe to toe with the angel.

"Are retired. We are done. We are going to live apple pie lives and we will be fine, let someone else do God's dirty work. We're done." His green eyes were intense, and his tone indicated resolution and unwavering determination.

"Please do not force my hand."

"Or what? You'll be like Zechariah and screw with us until we do your bidding?"

"Dean…"

"No. Don't "Dean" me. Get out Cass. Unless you are here to visit Sam, check on him, help him be better, then just get out of this house. There is a kid and a woman here who don't need this. And there is a man clutching a woman's shirt because he's so scared and tired and broken because he saved the world. He doesn't need to go back out on the road, he doesn't need this. He needs to rest, and get his slice of the pie, and be done. So unless, you are here to check on him, and make him feel better then get the hell out."

And just as quickly as he appeared he disappeared. Dean seething and breathing as if he had just run the mile in ten seconds. How dare Cass, how dare God, just come here and demand more of them. Hadn't they done enough, hadn't they given enough, hadn't they sacrificed enough? Yes, Dean decided, they had.


	13. Chapter 13

Dean struggled to put his game face back into place after the altercation with Cass, but he got it affixed, exited the bathroom and made it back to Sam's bedroom. He heard Lisa at the door murmuring softly to Sam.

"It's okay. Dean will be right back. He just went to get a shower." Dean smiled at the tone, it was the same one she used when she was trying to soothe Ben after he fell off his bike, or when he was sick with the flu last month. Dean's heart softened just a little at the sound. She was treating Sammy exactly as he would treat Sammy, and for Dean Winchester, that was a major plus in the "Good" column. Dean didn't want to eavesdrop on any conversation they might have, so he pushed the door open, to stop any further conversation. As the door opened Sam sat bolt right up in bed, as if a string was attached to both. Sam sat up so he wasn't in a vulnerable position when whatever hellspawn entered to provide him with some form of torture. Dean understood that reaction all too well, it was the same reason he spent so much time sleeping in his clothes the first year back from Hell, he wanted to be prepared, wanted to have his shoes on, his clothes on, and his gun handy, so he could defend himself at a moment's notice.

Dean remembered being that sensitive to sound, smell, touch, movement, anything. In hell sometimes, the scent of fire was the only warning you had before they torched you just to listen to you scream and to smell your flesh burn. Dean connected with Sam's eyes, because eyes were the true indication of who you were dealing with. In hell, demon eyes flicker black when they are trying to hold the form of a human. In Hell, one of their favorite pass times was trying to decide which form would inflict the most pain. It didn't take the demons long, when he was there, to decide that taking Sam's form provided the best entertainment. Dean assumed that Sam had endured something similar, so he made eye contact and he only moved further into the room when he noted that some of the tenseness abated.

"Hey. I see you're awake."

"Yeah, I am."

"He woke up about two minutes ago. I think after a particularly bad nightmare. But he won't say anything about it."

"He won't." Dean said simply and sat down on the bed next to Lisa, she must have moved when Sam awakened, and rested a hand on Sam's foot. Dean knew from experience that touch, connection with a person, a person you loved, was the best medication for this particular brand of disaster. "The nightmares are pretty bad when you first get back. They aren't something you want to talk about." He put a hand on Lisa's knee and gave a weak smile. "They aren't something you'd want to hear either."

"That bad?" she asked softly.

Dean nodded, sighed, and turned to his little brother. "You need to take a shower."

Sam nodded.

"And I need to go make breakfast. Ben will be up soon." She stood and turned and looked at Sam. "What would you like for breakfast?" she asked.

Sam licked his lips, and looked down, unsure of what he wanted, it had been so long since he had actually since he'd eaten anything by choice, that he suddenly didn't know what he wanted. Dean answered for him. "Toast, butter and jelly, probably about four slices to start, and water."

"Dean, your brother just got back from hell, and you want to give him bread and water? He ate more than that last night" she said. For all intents and purposes they sounded like his parents.

"Texture. You don't want to know why. But right now. That will work best, especially after the nightmares, everything is worse after the nightmares."

"Oh." She said a little grossed out by her own imagination.

"Come on Sammy, let's go get you clean."

Sam didn't want Dean to leave him alone while he showered, Dean remembered that feeling, wanting people to be with him at all times, wanting to at least hear his loved ones voices. He remembered sleeping on Bobby's floor next to the couch where Sam was sleeping just because he wanted to be RIGHT there next to his brother, wanted to be protected by the shield of family. He had confused Bobby and Sam when he had pulled the blankets onto the floor, threw a pillow at the head of it, and toed off his shoes and started to lie down.

"_Dean there is a perfectly good bed upstairs. You should sleep in it." Sam had said with concern._

"_No. I'm fine. I want to be in the room just in case you and Bobby find something while burning the midnight oil."_

"_But Dean, you need sleep, all we are going to do is make noise." Sam had countered._

"_Not like I didn't spend years in the car trying to sleep while you and Dad yelled about whatever." Sam sighed and put his hands on his hips. _

"_Dean…you were in.." Sam hadn't been able to say the words then, and Dean didn't give him the chance to say it._

"_And worse things probably happened to me there. I don't think that sleeping on Bobby's floor is a problem." Sam and Bobby had given each other a look that Dean was too frazzled to read and they gave in. _

Dean remembered falling asleep to their voices and it soothing his troubled and scared mind, and it had took everything he had to not ask Sam to come into the bathroom with him and sit while he took a shower. Messed up, was an understatement for how he came back from Hell.

Sam's hand came out of the shower and Dean handed him the towel. Sam came out of the shower, body perfect, no scars, tattoo still intact, just like he had come back from the pit. "One thing is for damn sure, when Cass puts people back together, he puts them back together right."

Sam looked down and nodded and began the process of getting dressed and cleaned up. "Did he fix…" Sam gestured to Dean's eyes and nose.

"Yeah, right after the hole closed. He came back, new and improved, and he fixed my face, and Bobby's neck." Sam's eyes widened and he started breathing fast and hard.

"Bobby's alive?"

"Yeah, Bobby is fine. Cass put him back together. Good as new. Ornery as ever. Hunting like he's in his 20s. Damn good at it too. Nothing is keeping him still anymore."

"Thank God." Sam swallowed and licked his lips. "I saw him…I saw Lucifer snap his neck. I couldn't stop it Dean. I tried. I tried." And a tear slipped down his brother's long face. He took a deep breath and wiped the tear. "I couldn't."

"I know you couldn't. It's all good. We're all fine. And now that you are back everything is perfect." Sam nodded curtly and pulled the shirt over his head.

SNSNSNSN

Dean walked with Sam down stairs and to the kitchen, Dean stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Castiel sitting in front of Lisa.

"I thought I told you to get out of here and never come back." Dean said with a cold authority.

"Dean…"

"The answer is no. No. We've given enough. Sam needs time to heal. We aren't. We won't."

"Dean…" Lisa started. Dean turned to her. "I think you should hear him out."


	14. Chapter 14

Dean looked at Lisa like she was betraying the country, and to her credit she didn't shrink under his gaze, instead she seemed to grow more defiant.

"I really think you should listen to him Dean. He saved Sam…"

"That's how it always is, isn't it Cass?"

"I don't understand."

"Everything has a price, just like a demon deal, only you get what you want before you know what the price tag is. At least with demons you know what the price is up front. Why can't you just bring Sam back, because he deserves it, because he saved the freaking world, you remember that? You were there. Or has your new job, and privileges, in heaven turned you into a Zechariah wanna be dick?"

Sam put a hand on Dean's arm, stopping him. "I wanna to hear what he has to say Dean."

Dean seethed, and for a moment Castiel didn't know what to do. Dean was always the one in charge, he was the one who dictated what happened with Sam, and no one ever crossed that line. Those who did tended to have a track record that was cut short, and made incredibly bloody.

"Cass, tell me." Sam said again.

"Lucifer had a back up plan. He knew about the rings, knew it was a possibility that you would resist him, or be able to throw him back into the cage."

"Lucifer is anything but stupid." Sam supplied.

"Yes. And he has sent a specific demon to come after you two and get the rings and open the cage."

"Then we have to destroy the rings. End of story. You don't need us for anything." Dean said quickly.

"It isn't that simple Dean." Castiel said, sometimes truly amazed that the man who could put together a complex plan, filled with strategy, and cleverness, could be so clueless.

"Of course it isn't that simple. It is never that freaking simple."

"They are going to find you, both of you…"

"Wait. I thought our ribs, and the hex bags I've got stashed all over the house…" Lisa turned sharply at that. "I thought those would keep us invisible from all of that."

Castiel, impatient, moved closer to Dean, and to his credit he didn't back down. "Are you protected at work? Are you protected when you go on your Saturday fieldtrips? Are they protected when you aren't in the house?" he asked and pointed to Lisa.

"How dare you accuse me of not protecting my family. That has been my life's work. I'm pretty damn good at doing what I have to do to protect my family. Don't you dare Cass, don't you dare accuse me of that." The words dripped venom and Castiel had to remember that he was an angel, a powerful angel, to keep himself rooted in the spot before Dean.

"I didn't mean.."

"Get out Castiel. Get out." Castiel had learned a few things from his time on Earth, and one was when Dean Winchester was pissed, and telling you to leave, the odds were pretty damn good that you should get the hell out rather than get a knife to the gut or a gunshot wound to the head. So, Castiel decided that it was in his best interest to retreat today and try again later, and he disappeared, however the anger inside Dean did not.

"Dean? Are you okay?" Lisa asked and touched his bicep.

"I don't want him in the house. I don't want him demanding things of my family."

"Dean." Sam started. "Cass is right you know."

"No he's not Sam! We are done with hunting, we are done with the manipulation, with the lies, with the freaking destinies. They can find some new saps to manipulate. We are done."

"But I thought you wanted to hunt?" Lisa asked.

"I wanted my brother back." He said with emotion choking his normally strong voice. "I wanted Sam out of the cage. I didn't want to go back to hunting, I don't want that life anymore, but I thought that if it could help someone find Sammy, if I thought I could find Sammy by doing that, I would have hunted for the next thirty years. But I'm not going to go back to it now that Sam is here, we are going to be normal people, we are going to try and fit into this apple pie life together. Right Sammy?" Sam didn't answer right away. "Sammy?"

"I think we should do what Cass says."

"What? Why?"

"Because, he saved my life. And that is worth something."

"Damn right it is worth something, and I'm not about to risk it again, just because they want payment for a miracle. Far as I'm concerned, we're even."


	15. Chapter 15

"Dean?" Ben asked, poking his head around the corner.

"Yeah, Ben?"

"Whatcha doin'?"

"Making the house safe for you and your mom."

"But I thought the house was already safe."

"It was, for the things I thought we could be u p against, but things have changed."

"Because of the angels?"

Dean paused in his work and shut his eyes tightly. No child should be told that angels are the boogie men under your bed, or the villain in the dark. They should think that they are the people that will help you, give you a miracle, just because you were a good person and deserved it. Dean didn't want to shatter that illusion, but he had used honesty as the building blocks of his relationship with the boy. Dean had learned that honesty was really and truly the best policy; had he implemented that lesson with Sam a lot earlier, they would have avoided a lot of the things that had smacked them straight in the face later.

Dean looked over at Ben and he truly wanted to lie to him, feed him a lie that wouldn't hurt, that wouldn't shatter his faith in God, or in the power of good. "Yeah, buddy, because of the angels." Dean said finally and hating himself for saying it.

Ben came fully into the room, and came up behind Dean. "Why would angels hurt us?"

"Because they want me and Sam to do something, and if we say no, they will probably come after you and your mom to make us do it."

"But angels are supposed to be good."

"They think they are doing the right thing, and to do the right thing they are willing to do whatever they have to do."

"Kind of like if mom was sick and the only way I could save her would be to steal the medicine?"

"Yeah, kinda like that."

"But if it is the right thing to do, shouldn't you do it? The guy in the trench coat said it was important."

Dean turned to Ben and Ben wondered if the glittery look in Dean's eyes were tears. "Because, Ben, I can't have them taking the people I love, and hurting them. And Sam, he did some bad things, and he didn't mean to, and he will do anything to make it right, even if it hurts him. I can't let them do that to my brother." Dean said and then turned back to his work. Ben crept up behind him, silent as the grave, and with Dean so entrenched in his own thoughts he didn't sense the kid coming up behind him.

"Is that blood?" Ben asked incredulously startling Dean from his work.

"Ben. You don't need to see this."

"Is that blood?" Ben repeated. Dean sighed, closed his eyes, and gritted his teeth.

"Yeah, it's blood."

"Whose blood?"

"My blood."

"What is it for?"

"Don't worry about it."

"Is it to keep the angel in the trench coat away?"

Ben was a determined little cuss, Dean had realized that the moment he had me the kid, and that was honestly some of the reason Dean had wondered if Ben was truly his son. Dean sighed, knowing that he was going to have to give in because Ben had the tenacity of a dog with a chew bone. Dean turned and said, "Yeah, this is to keep the guy in the trench coat away."

"Why did you make it with blood?"

"Because it is the only way it works."

"How does it work?"

"You make this symbol, attach it to something, like a wall or a door, some place where the angels won't see it right away, and then when they come near you or someone you love, you take your hand, the hand that is covered in your own blood, and put it against the center and it blasts the angels away."

"Cool! Do they explode?"

"No, they just disappear into this flash of light."

"I wanna see it!" Dean sighed inwardly this time, and hoped that Ben would never have to see the sigil work.

SNSNSNSNS

Later that evening, after enduring questioning from Ben about the sigil, making more sigils and putting them up around the entrances and exits of the house, Dean had to endure a chew out from Lisa regarding teaching Ben how to make pictures out of his own blood. That was when he turned around and found Ben and Sam together, Sam holding a towel over the blood coming from Ben's palm.

Dean felt horrible after he saw what Ben had done. When Dean said something all Ben could say was, "I wanted to help you keep the angels from hurting Mom and Sam." The whole room had softened a little after that. The boy was just as worried about things in the dark taking his family as Dean was, and both Lisa and Sam couldn't fault either one of them.

"Baby, let Dean do it." Lisa said softly. "Dean knows what he is doing…"

"But I can do it too. You're my mom and I want to keep you safe."

"I know you do sweetie…"

"Dean can teach me. He showed me how to make the sigil. I can do it. I'm ten." All of the grown ups gave Ben tired and sad smiles and Lisa pulled her boy close to her chest and kissed the top of his head.

"I know you are baby, I know you are." She looked over Ben's head to Dean and he came up beside the two of them and put a hand on Ben's back.

"Kid, you can't do stuff like this. The bad guys don't need to know that you know this stuff."

"But…"

"Our dad.." Sam started coming closer. "Our dad trained us to do this kind of thing since we were younger than you, and we don't want that life for anyone. It wasn't a good life growing up." Sam squatted down in front of Ben. "Don't get yourself on the bad guy's radar Ben. Let me and Dean handle it. All of the bad guys don't like us as it is."

Ben nodded, and Lisa whispered a thank you over his head.

SNSNSNSN

"How was your walk with Lisa?" Dean asked Sam as he made a bed for himself on the floor beside his brother's bed.

"Fine." He said with a shrug. "We didn't really say much, we just walked around the neighborhood, and she'd introduce me to the neighbors as your little brother, and that got laughs."

Dean gave a small smile. "I bet it did."

"Why are you in here and not with that beautiful wonderful woman in there?" Sam asked.

"Because you need me. She understands."

Pillows and bed sheets were adjusted, and Sam finally asked. "Why aren't you jumping at the chance to get the sons of bitches who are trying to bust Lucifer back out? Don't you want to make sure that doesn't ever happen again?"

"It wont' happen again."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I won't have kids."

"That's your solution? Never have children?"

"Exactly. If both of us never have kids then there will be no more vessels."

"Don't' you think that heaven and hell can manipulate the situation just enough to make it happen?"

"That would require my consent."

"But Dean…"

"Look. Sam. I just don't want to get back into it. I can't get back into it. I can't risk Lisa and Ben."

"Dean, the best way to protect them is to go out there and get the bad guys. Castiel…"

"I don't want to talk about him."

"He brought me back Dean. I've got the same handprint on my shoulder that you do. He brought us both back…he fought along side of us when it wasn't real sure that we would win. He rebelled against heaven and lost everything, because he believed in us. I think we owe him."

"Owe him what Sam? Our lives? Our bodies? Our souls? I mean really…he got everything he wanted by helping us, he's got a cushy job up in heaven, all the power and free beer he can handle. And what will we have if we go back to hunting? Pain? Misery? Death?"

"Dean…"

"No. I need to protect those I love."

"I think the best way for us to do that would be to go hunting."

"Lisa and Ben…"

"I think they would be safer if we weren't in their lives."

Dean thought for a moment and then sighed. "They probably would, but I can't just leave them. I can't leave Ben, he's…he's attached. He's never had a dad before."

"What's more important? His life? Or a surrogate father?"

"I don't want to talk about this."

Sam huffed, "Dean.."

"End of discussion Sam. Go to bed." Dean hunkered down and turned on his side, facing the wall.

SNSNSN

Lisa hadn't meant to listen to the entire conversation, she had meant to come and ask if Sam needed anything before bed, and she had caught the conversation. She hurried as fast as she could to the bedroom, closed the door, and knelt beside the bed, put her hands together, and she began to pray for Castiel to come back.

She didn't know if there was a more effective way of getting an angel's attention, and until recently she hadn't known that she could get an angel's attention, she sat there like that for twenty minutes, and then suddenly she felt a breeze in her room and she looked up and the man in the trench coat appeared.

"Yes?" he asked.

"I know how to get Dean to go after the bad guys."


	16. Chapter 16

Sam was on the edge of sleep, that place where dreams interconnect with the sounds and movement around the sleeper, when a knock at the door startled him completely awake.

Dean was sitting up, a hand on a gun underneath his pillow when Lisa entered followed by Castiel. 

"I thought I told you never to come back here." Dean said darkly, and contemplated how exactly he could take the bandage off of his hand and apply the bloody hand to the sigil that he had sitting next to his makeshift bed.

"Lisa called me here." Castiel said.

"Lisa?" Dean questioned feeling slightly betrayed by the only woman he had ever completely trusted.

She sat down on the bed next to Sam, licked her lips, picked at her nails and then finally said. "I can't do this."

"Can't do what?"

"You need to be out there, on the road fighting. You need to be doing that."

"I don't want to Lis…"

"That's a lie and the both of us know it. I talked to Bobby…"

"You talked to Bobby…?"

"Yeah, I called him a while back to see what I could do to help you find Sam. He seemed to be bound by the same promises you were." She turned to Sam. "When they promise you things, boy oh boy, even suggesting that they break it is something close to blasphemy. Remember that the next time you bind the two of them in promises." She turned back to Dean. "He mentioned that you send him hunts. That you looked up hunts in the newspapers, online, anywhere…and you sent them to him, so he could check it out."

"It was just because…"

"Because that's where you belong." The words hit home, she was right, but he couldn't leave her and Ben unprotected, couldn't leave the people he loved without a fighting chance for their own survival. He promised himself that no one else would die because of him. And that was a promise he intended to keep.

"I can't leave you and Ben unprotected, and I can't expect you to give up your lives to go on the road with me and Sammy."

Lisa licked her lips, looked to Castiel and then back at the brothers. "That's why I think it would be best if we didn't remember you."

"Come again?" Dean asked confused.

"I asked Castiel to wipe our memories of this time with you. That way we can't be used against you."

"But…"

"You've sacrificed your whole life for the world, and no one sacrifices for the two of you. And giving up my memories…" tears crowded her voice. She composed herself and continued. "Giving up my memories of you, my love for you, is a weighty sacrifice, the only one I can make. But, uhhh.." She paused flipped her hair out of her face. "But…I think it's for the best. I think that is best for the world."

"Lisa…"

"You taught me Dean, all about sacrificing for the greater good. If I ever hoped to be a woman worthy of you, your love, then I should be able to do the same thing. And I am." She rubbed the tears out of her eyes. Dean knew she was serious, knew that there was no changing her mind, and that was a reason Dean loved her.

"Ben?"

"His memory too."

"When?"

"As soon as possible."

"Dean…" Sam started, Dean put a hand up and silenced him.

"This isn't my decision, or yours Sammy. It's Lisa's." Dean turned to her and asked. "Are you sure?"

"Keeping you all to myself is selfish. I can't live knowing that people may die because I was too selfish to let you go." Dean nodded, took a deep breath and looked at his brother.

"Let's get our crap packed Sammy. We've got to get out of here."

SNSNSNSNS

The Impala was packed and Lisa was standing at the door watching him put the last of his things into the old car. Dean slammed the trunk, checked to make sure that Sam was in the passenger's seat and then went to Lisa to say thank you and good bye.

"No goodbyes." She said. She tried to straighten the collar on his coat, and she smiled to herself. "I remember watching other women do this for their husbands when they went off to war. I never thought I would be a military woman."

Dean smiled sadly and put a hand on top of hers and squeezed "Thank you so much for all of this Lisa."

"You never thank someone for loving you." She said watching their hands. Dean looked up and kissed her.

"I love you."

"I love you too." Dean didn't bother telling her to say goodbye to Ben for him, in twenty minutes, Ben wouldn't remember any of their time together. He pulled away from her and got into the car and drove as fast as he could away from the house, because he was afraid that if he drove slowly he would turn around and not do this.

Lisa watched him go and tears flowed freely down her face. When the car was out of sight, she went inside and Castiel was standing in front of her. She wiped the tears from her eyes, steeled herself, and put on a brave face. "I'm ready." She said and Castiel nodded sadly, touched her forehead, and she forgot everything.

AN: Thank you guys so much for reading this story. I hope you all liked it!


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